


Want You to Want Me Too

by theoofoof



Series: Barson Tropes [7]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Marriage Contract, Tropes, marriage pact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 04:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoofoof/pseuds/theoofoof
Summary: Benson and Barba agree to get married if they're both still single by Olivia's 50th birthday.





	Want You to Want Me Too

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hope and Tropes Marriage Pact Collection, but a little delayed. Sorry! Hope you enjoy all the same.

They were in their usual booth at Forlini’s when the deal was struck.

It had been a few weeks since they’d last been there. Since Olivia had become a mother, she understandably preferred to get home in the evenings rather than go out for a drink. But it was Carisi’s birthday and Lucy had agreed to stay late with Noah so Olivia could attend his celebratory drinks with the rest of the squad. To Rafael’s surprise, he’d been invited along as well.

_‘You’re as much a part of the team as any of us and I owe you for mentoring me through the Hodda case,’_ Carisi had said, so Rafael had agreed to go for one drink. Of course, he’d stayed for longer than that. He’d missed spending time with Olivia so when she’d slid into the booth next to him, it was inevitable that one drink wouldn’t be enough.

Now, they were the last two standing, both well past tipsy, but not quite ‘black-out’ drunk. They watched as Carisi escorted Rollins out of the bar, his arm around her shoulders and hers in the back pocket of his jeans.

“How long’s that been going on?” Rafael asked, jerking his head in their direction.

Olivia shrugged. “He was worried about her when she was in labour and he’s been helping out with Jesse since they came home.” She shook her head. “I’m not asking. They’ve not submitted any paperwork yet, so ‘officially’…” she framed the word with air quotes, “I don’t know about it.”

Rafael chuckled. “See no evil, hear no evil… I get it.”

“Besides, she’s still on maternity leave, so for the moment, technically, I don’t need to know. Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.”

Olivia watched through the window as her two detectives waited for their Uber. Rollins turned in Carisi’s arms and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent. In turn, he kissed the side of her head before tilting her face up to meet her lips with a sweet kiss.

Inside Forlini’s Olivia sighed.

Rafael looked up from his scotch, which he’d gone back to after the detectives’ departure and followed her eye-line. He rolled his eyes. “Guess, that confirms it. Sickening, isn’t it?” Rafael didn’t begrudge other people happiness, he just preferred it if it wasn’t shoved in his face when he was single and alone.

“Hmm.” Olivia agreed, taking a sip of her wine. Then she scoffed. “When did we become so jaded?”

Rafael downed what was left of his scotch. “Well for me, it was around the time the girl I loved more than anything chose my best friend over me.”

“Yelina?”

He nodded. He had never explicitly told Olivia anything about his past relationship with Yelina, just that she thought his pursuance of Alex was personal, rather than professional, but he supposed it didn’t take a trained detective to work it out.

“How’d that work out for her?” Olivia asked, thinking that anyone who would choose Alex Muñoz over Rafael Barba – and hurt him in the process – didn’t deserve any of her sympathies.

Rafael shook his head. He didn’t want to discuss the aftermath of their investigation and the breakdown of his former friends’ marriage. Years ago, he’d have been pleased. Now, he didn’t care either way, but he felt bad for their children.

“It was a long time ago. I’m over it now.”

“What happened?”

If she’d been a little less drunk, she’d have told him he didn’t have to tell her if he didn’t want to. And if he’d been a little less drunk, he probably would have declined the offer to talk about his past romantic failings. As it was, he was enjoying spending time with Olivia, and the alcohol had erased any concerns he might have had about damaging his reputation.

“I think I loved her from the moment I met her. I’d spent most of 11th grade pining after a girl called Lauren, but when I met Yelina, it was as if Lauren ceased to exist. We became friends and she and her sister would hang out with me, Alex and Eddie. I took her to senior prom, but we weren’t officially together; it didn’t seem fair to ask her when I was about to leave for Harvard, but she knew how I felt about her, and I thought she returned those feelings. But by the time I came home for Christmas, she was with Alex. And, being young and naïve, I thought I’d never love again.”

“But you did. You had other relationships?”

“Several. Some short, some longer, some that I even thought might go the distance, but each one was more disastrous than the last,” he lamented. Olivia paused, her glass halfway to her lips, and Rafael couldn’t read her expression. “What?” he asked.

“You just described my entire romantic history in one sentence.”

Rafael raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to elaborate.

“My first serious relationship was with one of my mother’s college students. I thought I loved him. He asked me to marry him and run away with him. My mother… well, let’s just say she didn’t take it well. I dated a couple of guys through my time at college and the academy, but they were just flings really. Nothing serious. Then I kind of threw myself into my work, so there was no time for relationships. When I moved to SVU, I met Elliot, my old partner…” She twisted the stem of her almost empty wine glass between her fingers. “…and for almost thirteen years, every relationship I ever had ended because I couldn’t rid myself of the inexplicable…” she searched for the right word, “…hold he had over me. I loved him, but when I look back, I can see how toxic, how suffocating that particular relationship was.”

“Did you and he ever…?” Rafael waved his hand.

“No. I mean, I won’t deny I wanted him. And there were times I thought he wanted me too. But he was married, and I couldn’t do that to his family. After he left, I started seeing an Executive ADA… David Haden.”

Rafael nodded, somewhat surprised by this revelation. He knew of Haden, and he’d heard the rumours about his involvement with a female police officer, he just hadn’t realised it was Olivia.

“It was going really well – I thought he was the one – but we waited too long to disclose, and our relationship became a conflict of interest when he was assigned to head up a Conviction Integrity Unit and look at some of my old cases. He lived for the job – like I do – and I couldn’t ask him to resign.”

“Did he offer?”

“He did. But I don’t think he really meant it. He didn’t exactly fight me on it when I told him not to. It might not have worked anyway… he was caught up in the Delia Wilson case. Nothing was ever proven but,” she shrugged, “who knows…” 

“Haden’s an idiot. Choosing the job over you… no man in their right mind would do that.” Inside, there was a voice telling Rafael to shut up or he was going to give away his true feelings for the woman sitting next to him. He quietened it with the rest of his scotch.

She smiled at him. “Thank you for that. I guess that brings us to the latest stop on this tour of my previous relationships… Cassidy. And you saw how that turned out.”

“God, I don’t think we’ve had one decent relationship between us,” quipped Rafael. “We’re going to die old and alone. Well, I will… someone’ll snap you up, I’m sure.

“What, a single mother, married to her job and on the wrong side of forty? I doubt that.”

“Objection! You’re a beautiful, passionate woman with the capacity to care enough for an abandoned little boy to adopt him. Who wouldn’t want that?” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “And if not, well, we’ll always have each other.”

Rafael’s words planted the seed of an idea in Olivia’s head. It was ridiculous really, not at all what he meant by they’ll always have each other, she was sure – and a definite sign that she was far drunker than she thought. Still, she downed what was left of her wine, for courage. If the idea fell flat on its face, well, she could just laugh it off, blame it on the alcohol.

“You know what we should do?” she said, slamming her glass down on the table, decisively.

“What?” Rafael asked, turning towards her. He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves on his arrival and his bare forearm brushed hers and Olivia’s skin felt warmer at the contact.

“If we’re both still single at fifty, we should get married.” Rafael just stared at her, so she felt the need to go on, even though her words were mostly alcohol-induced babbling. “You just said, we’ll always have each other, so getting married would stop us from dying old and alone. There are other reasons too; security, tax benefits, so I just thought…”

“It’s an interesting idea…,” Rafael replied, too drunk to truly comprehend the consequences of his response, “but you’ll turn fifty before me.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Way to make a girl feel good about herself, Rafael.”

“Sorry. I just think the wording of your deal needs work – to avoid any loopholes or confusion.”

Olivia smiled. “Always with the legalities.”

“Hey, I’ve gotta put my Harvard scholarship to use somehow,” he shrugged.

“So… What do you suggest?”

He took his legal pad out of his briefcase, retrieved his gold pen from his inside pocket and began scribbling. Occasionally, he would stop, put the pen to his lips, thinking. Olivia leant over, trying to get a glimpse, but he kept moving the pad away from her, concealing its contents.

Once he was satisfied with the ‘contract’, he slid the legal pad across the table towards Olivia. She took her glasses from where they were perched on the top of her head and perused the document.

_December 10, 2015_

_Given the current state of our romantic lives, we, the undersigned, _  
_agree to marry each other in the event that we are both_  
_ unmarried on the eve of Olivia Margaret Benson’s fiftieth birthday._

At the bottom, he’d drawn two lines for them to sign on and had written their names underneath.

Olivia looked up at him and held her hand out. “Can I borrow your pen?”

Rafael picked up the gold pen his abuelita had bought him when he tried his first case and twirled it between his fingers. “You sure about this?”

“We did say we’d be squabbling at 85,” she pointed out.

“Yes, we did.”

He handed her the pen and she scrawled her name at the bottom. It wasn’t as neat as her usual signature – the alcohol having diminished her fine motor skills and made her penmanship a little wobbly – but it was passable.

Once she had signed, she passed the pen back to him and he signed his name at the bottom with a flourish, dropping the pen to the pad when finished.

“Well then counsellor, looks like we have a deal.”

* * *

Shortly after that night, Olivia got involved with Ed Tucker – and both she and Rafael put their drunken agreement to the back of their minds. It wasn’t spoken of again until over a year later after she’d ended it with Tucker and added another name to her ever-growing list of failed relationships.

It was when Olivia was packing up some of Ed’s stuff to return to him that she came across the crumpled piece of paper. She almost threw it out without giving it a second glance, assuming it to be of no consequence, but then she caught sight of her somewhat lopsided signature and as she unfolded it and scanned the contents, the memories of that night came flooding back.

Olivia sighed wistfully. The ease with which she and Rafael used to talk and confide in one another had been the worst casualty of her relationship with Ed. While she hadn’t deliberately set out to keep him in the dark – she and Ed had made the decision not to tell anyone their relationship – Rafael still felt betrayed by her actions. She saw it in his eyes that day in his office when she was forced to come clean about her relationship with the former IAB captain.

Since then their relationship had been strained. She had closed herself off, spending more time with Ed, and Rafael hadn’t told her about the threats against his life. Something which, a year before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make her aware of.

She glanced at the clock. He’d be at his usual spot in Forlini’s about now, reflecting on his day in court and planning his strategy for tomorrow. And Noah was staying with Amanda…

She folded the piece of paper and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans, before grabbing her coat and striding purposefully out of her apartment. It was time to fix things with her friend.

Entering Forlini’s, she found him in his usual seat at the bar, nursing a glass of scotch. She crossed the room quickly, unnoticed by Rafael who was scribbling away earnestly on his legal pad, his brow furrowed.

Shrugging off her jacket, she slid onto the stool next to him, gesturing to Anthony, the bartender. “Cabernet, please.”

Rafael looked up at the sound of her voice. “No ‘mom-duty’ tonight?” he asked, as she folded her jacked and placed it on the empty seat next to her.

“He’s with Amanda for the night,” she told him as Anthony placed her drink in front of her.

Rafael nodded. “First sleepover?” he asked, returning his attention to his legal pad.

“With someone other than Lucy, yeah. He was a little excited – he loves Jesse to bits. I hope it’s not too much for her, having both of them.”

“She’ll call if she needs you. Although, you know she’s probably roped Carisi in to help.”

Olivia lifted her glass to her lips. “Mmm, probably.” The two detectives had submitted paperwork to her not long after Amanda returned from maternity leave and somehow, miraculously, 1PP had allowed them both to stay on with SVU. Almost a year later, they were still going strong.

“So, you have a rare night off, what are you doing here? Tucker working?” Rafael didn’t mean his words to have such a bite to them, but every time he thought about that man, about he and Liv together, he couldn’t mask his feelings.

“Ah, no actually. I… we… it’s over.”

Olivia’s words got Rafael’s full attention. He dropped his pen and turned on his stool. “What happened?” He wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wanted to know, but his interest was piqued. When he’d found out about Olivia’s relationship with Tucker, he’d not only felt betrayed that she’d kept it from him but jealous as hell. That jealously only became more intense the longer their relationship had gone on, eating at him from the inside – although he’d learned to rein it in around Olivia. But now, it seemed it was over, and he needed to know why.

“Ed’s put his papers in,” she told him as she took another sip of the dark red liquid. “He asked me to retire with him…”

“You? Miss ‘I’ll go out with my gun in my hand’ Benson?” Rafael asked, his eyes wide. Clearly, Tucker didn’t know Olivia as well as he thought he did.

“I told him that I couldn’t; that the job was who I am. Between that and Noah… we were just in different places and it wasn’t fair on either of us to carry on when, ultimately, we weren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Really? You weren’t exactly thrilled by our relationship.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry you’ve ended it with him, but,” he put a comforting hand on her arm, “I am sorry you’re hurting.”

“I’ll be okay,” she told him.

He nodded. She was a strong woman; she didn’t need a man to complete her.

“Besides,” she continued, pulling their ‘contract’ from the back pocket of her jeans, unfolding it and placing it in front of him, “I’ve always got this to fall back on.”

Rafael lifted the paper and his eyes darted across the text. He barked out a laugh. “Oh God, I’d almost forgotten about this.” He turned to Anthony. “Another round, please.”

A few hours and several drinks later, they had reconnected. The marriage ‘contract’ – that still lay between them on the bar – had alleviated the palpable tension between them and opened the door for them to regain the easy banter they’d always had.

Putting his glass of scotch down on the bar, Rafael spoke. “About this…” he tapped the worn piece of paper with two fingers, “we can always find a loophole… revoke it. Tear it up and pretend it never existed.”

Olivia shrugged, running her finger around the rim of her glass. “I don’t know… We’re both still single after all… aren’t we?”

“We are,” Rafael confirmed, tilting his head as he considered her words. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan and we always have the option to revoke later.”

“You seem pretty determined to revoke. Is marrying me that scary a prospect, counsellor?” She leaned in to nudge his shoulder with her own, but the room began to spin, and she overbalanced, almost toppling off her stool.

“Woah!” Rafael’s arm shot out to steady her, curling around her, and her head landed on his shoulder. He looked down at her and they both dissolved into laughter.

As their laughter tapered off, Olivia’s eyelids began to feel heavy. It had been a long week, coupled with nights of broken sleep as she wrestled with what to do about Tucker. She sighed as she nuzzled into Rafael’s neck, breathing him in. As his scent – woody with sweet, spicy overtones – enveloped her, she closed her eyes and breathed in deep. His arm around her was strong and powerful, yet soft and calming.

“Maybe it’s time we called it a night,” Rafael whispered. “It’s late.” A glance at the clock told him it was almost closing time.

“Mmm-hmm,” murmured Olivia sleepily.

“I’ll call us an Uber,” he told her, although he doubted she could hear him. Olivia Benson could fall asleep anywhere; a skill left over from her days as a patrol officer, and one he rather envied. With gentle manoeuvring, so as not to disturb her, he pulled his phone from his pocket and ordered their car, before returning it to the bar – he wanted it where he could see it for when their driver arrived. He turned his head and allowed his lips to brush the top of his friend’s head before whispering,

“I’m not scared of marrying you, Liv. In fact, there’s nothing I want more. I just want you to want it too.”

* * *

To say it was never thought of again after that night would be a lie. It crossed Olivia’s mind after Byron Marks returned and she told Karla Wyatt to point a gun at her. She thought about what would happen to Noah if she was injured on the job… or worse. If she and Rafael were married, Noah would still have at least one parent, someone to watch out for her. Well, at least she hoped he would. It occurred to Olivia that when they made their pact, they hadn’t discussed Noah and how it would all affect him. Given that her fiftieth birthday was approaching at breakneck speed she resolved that the next time it came up, she would make sure they talked about Noah.

But between the child abuse investigations and the appearance of Sheila Porter in her and Noah’s lives, it never did come up. Christmas and New Year came and went, and she and Rafael continued to grow closer. But unbeknownst to Olivia, Rafael was struggling. She knew he’d struggled with some of the cases they’d picked up, but she didn’t realise how bad it was. His moral compass had gone haywire, resulting in him becoming too emotionally involved in the Drew Householder case. The trial that followed had tested them, but she had stood by him, confident that once it was over, they could carry on, continue to get closer and maybe she wouldn’t spend the entirety of her fifty-first year as a single woman.

She had not foreseen, however, that toll that the trial, and his actions that had proceeded it, would take on Rafael. The ‘not guilty’ verdict was handed down on her fiftieth birthday – the best present she could have ever received, and the only one she had wished for – but the day after they’d stood outside the courthouse where they first met and he told her she had changed his life but that he had to move on.

And she hadn’t seen him since. It had been four months since that awful day and, while he hadn’t been physically present in her life, he had kept in touch. He’d sent flowers about a week after leaving, with a card apologising for ruining her birthday. He’d added a new number to the card – the old one having been scrapped due to the press hounding him after his trial – and Olivia had sent him a thank you message. They’d exchanged several brief messages since then and he’d sent postcards from his travels through Europe, allowing her and Noah to chronicle his journey.

The last postcard had been received just yesterday from London, so the last thing Olivia expected was to see him outside Noah’s school. She was sat on a bench, checking her emails while waiting for class to be dismissed, when a shadow fell over her.

Shading her eyes with her hand, she raised her head. A small gasp escaped as she realised who it was who had encroached on her sunlight.

“Rafa!” His name was a whisper from her lips that barely reached his ears.

“Hi.” He was wearing jeans and a black short-sleeved t-shirt, which accentuated his chest and biceps. He looked good, a brighter image of the man who’d left four months ago. Clearly being away had agreed with him.

“I… What…” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just…”

He gave her a half-smile. “Surprised to see me?”

“You could say that. I thought you were in London.”

“I was. I flew back last night. Can I…? he gestured to the bench.

Nodding, she moved her bag from where she had placed it next to her to ward off any of the other moms who may try to co-opt her into helping out at next week’s bake sale. She had no idea what he was doing here, but she wasn’t about to send him away, not after all this time.

“I went by the precinct,” he told her as he sat down, “saw the squad. Amanda told me where you were, but I didn’t think I was going to make it in time, what with Carisi’s incessant questions.”

“He’s missed you,” Olivia remarked, before pausing then swallowing hard. “He’s not the only one.”

Even though Rafael had been expecting her words – worse if he was honest with himself, they still pierced his soul. He reached instinctively for her hand, taking it and entwining their fingers. “I’m sorry. I-”

The distant ringing of the end-of-school bell caused Rafael to stop, he’d thought he’d have longer with her before Noah was dismissed. Damn Carisi.

“Do you want me to go? I don’t want to upset Noah.” He wanted to see the boy more than anything, but he was willing to defer to Olivia’s wishes, not knowing how he had reacted to his leaving.

Olivia shook her head. “He’d be more upset if he found out you were here, and I’d sent you away. He’ll love to see you. It’ll be a nice surprise. But… if you’re just going to up and leave again…”

“I’m not. I’m home. I guess we have a lot to discuss… Can I take the two of you out to dinner and then when Noah’s in bed, we can catch up properly?”

She nodded, extricating her hand so she could gather her bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder as she stood. “Come on then.”

* * *

As predicted, Noah had been overjoyed to see his favourite uncle and had kept the conversation going throughout dinner, and their impromptu trip to the park beforehand too, talking a mile a minute about what was happening at school and at little league. He’d had a barrage of questions for Rafael about where he’d been and what he’d been doing, referencing several of the postcards he’d received. Olivia had questions too, but hers were not ones to be asked in the presence of her six-year-old. So, she let Noah and Rafael reconnect, resolving to keep her own counsel until Noah was in bed.

Rafael had been co-opted into story duty so after tucking her son in, she retreated to the kitchen, pouring them both a drink. Her, a glass of cabernet and him, a glass of scotch from the half-drunk bottle that had remained in her cupboard after he’d left.

The last time he’d drank from it was the night before his verdict. They’d received word that the jury had reached a decision just after 7 pm and would deliver it in the morning. She’d insisted he come over once Noah was in bed, not wanting him to be alone. She’d held him as he worried about what would happen if he was found guilty and assured him that, yes she would visit him, yes she would make sure Noah didn’t hate him, and yes, she would check in on his mother from time to time. Neither of them had gotten much sleep that night, knowing that the sooner they closed their eyes, the sooner the time of reckoning would be upon them. They had fallen asleep eventually though, snuggled together on her sofa, drawing comfort from each other even in sleep.

Turning from the counter her eyes were drawn to the array of postcards that adorned their fridge. She ran her hands over the collection of scenic views. He’d travelled extensively over the past four months – Athens, Rome, Prague, Munich, London – visited the major cities of Europe and probably a few of the minor ones too. She hoped he’d been able to deal with his demons and had found some peace along the way.

“I could have done with you being there,” he said, rounding the corner as her fingers traced the picture of the Colosseum. “Your fluent Italian would have saved me from a rather embarrassing moment.”

She turned to him; eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Eyeing the glass of scotch on the counter, he stepped into the kitchen. “Yeah, I made a bit of a faux-pas in a restaurant.” He picked up the glass and turned back to her, leaning on the counter as he continued. “It was late, I’d been travelling all day and was shattered and hungry, and I came upon this little back-street restaurant… Anyway, I ordered what I thought was a bowl of penne, but apparently, I made a small error with my pronunciation…”

He didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need too. It only took Olivia a couple of seconds to realise what exactly Rafael had said to the poor, unsuspecting Italian waiter.

“Oh, Rafa, you didn’t?”

The corners of her lips curled, and she fought back hard as her cheeks swelled momentarily with the pressure, but it was no use. A giggle erupted, echoing through the quiet apartment. She leaned back against the refrigerator, bracing herself as laughter completely engulfed her.

“I’m glad _someone_ finds it amusing,” he deadpanned once her amusement had subsided.

“Sorry,” she offered, but still with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Were you terribly embarrassed?”

“Well, I didn’t return to the restaurant again which I fear may have disappointed one of the waiters, who seemed to pay me far more attention after my mistake.” He glared at her. “Don’t laugh.”

A small snigger escaped, but this time she managed to rein it in.

Despite the mirth, Rafael was conscious that there was still a discussion to be had. He held out her glass of wine and inclined his head in the direction of the living room. “Shall we?”

She nodded, reaching out for her glass. As she took it from him, their fingers brushed. They had been friends for long enough now that she’d thought she would have become used to casual touches between them – the touch of fingers as they passed a file, a comforting hand on a back or arm, or in the latter months, a hug – but this was different. Their gazes locked, a torrent of emotions flickering in their depths. The air felt charged. Electric. Sensual. Her pulse pounded in her ears and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

His eyes flickered to her lips and Olivia knew she had to take a chance. The experience of losing him had brought with it the stark realisation that if only she’d been a bit braver everything could have been drastically different. And she couldn’t let another chance pass her by.

She took a gulp of her wine – a spot of Dutch courage – and took a step toward him, trapping him between her body and the breakfast bar. She reached around him to place her glass down, getting a whiff of his aftershave as she did. The same one he’d always worn, and she found the familiar scent centred her. She pulled back slightly and allowed one hand to rest on his waist and the other to cup his cheek.

His glass clinked against the granite counter as he fumbled to put it down behind him. Once he succeeded, he reached for her, his hands finding her waist.

“Liv...?”

She could sense his confusion; their agreement had been that they were going to talk and now here she was, almost bypassing that stage, but spending time with him had reminded her of how things used to be and given her a glimpse of how things could be.

The swell of emotion caught in her throat, preventing her from voicing her feelings. Instead, she smiled and stroked her thumb across the stubble he was growing before closing the final gap and pressing her lips to his gently. She kept the contact soft, giving him the change to pull back if he was uncomfortable.

He didn’t. He returned the kiss, his lips caressing hers for a few moments.

When he pulled back and looked at her, Olivia wondered if he could tell how fast her heart was beating. Or if the speed of his matched the fevered pace of her own.

“Not that I didn’t enjoy that,” he whispered, “but I thought we were going to talk.”

Olivia gave a slight shrug, as the hand that had cupped his face joined her other at his waist. “Some people think talking is overrated.”

He raised a perfectly arched brow before leaning in, pausing with mere millimetres between them. “Is that so?” he whispered against her lips.

A simple nod was all the answer he needed before kissing her. His hands that had been resting at her waist swept beneath the soft NYPD hoodie she had changed into after they’d arrived home. He felt the hitch in her breath as his thumbs stroked her sides just above the waistband of her leggings. He walked her backwards until she was pinned between his body and the refrigerator. He couldn’t get enough of her. His hands moved up her sides, over her ribcage teasing the edges of her bra. His lips moved along the curve of her jaw, and he nosed her hair aside when they reached her neck. Her hands weren’t idle either. She had wrapped her arms around him, hands stroking up and down his back, but they were now making their way lower. They passed his belt and slipped into his back pockets as Olivia pulled him flush against her.

He groaned low in his throat at the contact and bucked against her. “God, Liv…”

“Maybe we should move this somewhere a little more comfortable,” Olivia suggested, not particularly enjoying the feel of the fridge magnets digging into her back.

He stepped back and she extracted her hands from his back pockets. As she removed her right hand, she accidentally drew the contents of his pocket with her and a folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Olivia stared down at the familiar-looking document. “Is that…”

“Yes.” Rafael bent down to retrieve the paper. He unfolded it and held it out for her, her eyes fixed on it as he stood. As she reached to take it from him, their fingers brushed lightly, and her gaze snapped to his. “It’s why I came home,” he told her, his eyes never leaving hers.

She swallowed thickly and dipped her head, her eyes scanning the faded writing that adorned the crumpled piece of paper. She didn’t really need to read it – the words written there were stored in the depths of her memory and seeing the contract they’d drawn up had brought them back to the forefront with astounding clarity – but she needed a moment to compose herself.

“Y-you said this is why you came home?”

Picking up his glass of scotch, he gestured to the living room with a nod of his head, “Shall we?”

She nodded and he slipped past her, out of the kitchen. She followed behind, a little disappointed at the change in direction their evening had taken. The flames of their earlier ardour had been well and truly doused by the appearance of the marriage contract that had gone forgotten for two years.

She found him sat on the couch, leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs. She joined him, placing the slightly dog-eared paper on the coffee table in front of them next to his glass.

“I found it in a book,” he began after a few moments, “I must have put it there after you found it and brought ti to show me in Forlinis…” he trailed off as he was assaulted by memories of that night. The sound of her laughing, the feel of her snuggled against his side.

“Rafa?”

Her words brought him back to the present. “Erm, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I realised that the deadline of our… agreement… had passed and well,” he stretched out his arms, “here I am. If you’re still interested,” he added quickly.

“If _I’m_ still interested? If I remember correctly, you were the one who talked about revoking the agreement.”

He let out a long sigh and carded a hand through his hair. Straightening, he turned to face her. “I did, but not for the reasons you think.”

Her brow furrowed. What other possible reason could there be? “Then why?”

“Because I didn’t want you to choose me because I was convenient,” he admitted. “I wanted _you_ to want to be with me.”

“Rafa…” She reached out to touch his leg. “I won’t lie and say I’ve been pining for you since before we signed,” she waved at the paper, “that. But after my relationship with Ed ended and you and I got back on track, I realised it was never going to work out with him, or anyone else… because somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with my best friend.”

“Liv…” His hand found hers, covering it gently.

“But I was a coward, scared about how things might change if I admitted it to him, that I might lose him. So, I hid my feelings, telling myself that one day… maybe… I’d have the courage to tell him. I thought we had time but then…”

“… I left.”

She nodded. “And all of a sudden there was no more time, and I tried… I gave you an opening.” She still hadn’t had the courage, not realising it would be last time she would see him.

“I know. I know what you wanted me to say that day outside the courthouse and I _wanted_ to say it, Liv. Believe me.” He tugged on her hand, placing it in his lap interlaced with his and in turn, pulled her closer. “But I couldn’t. I knew if I said it, I’d never have been able to leave, and I needed to leave. My head was a mess and I didn’t want to burden you and Noah with that.”

She shook her head as she cupped his cheek with her free hand. “That was our choice to make, Rafa. And we wouldn’t have minded.”

“I know that now. But back then…” he shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly in the best place… mentally.”

“And now?”

“I’m better. Getting out of the city, travelling has allowed to me deal with a lot of my demons. I’m not saying I’m one hundred percent there, but I’m no longer finding solace in the bottom of a bottle of scotch.”

Her eyes widened at his admission and her thumb stroked over his cheek. “Oh, Rafa.” She wished she’d have chased after him that day and convinced him to stay.

“It’s okay,” he assured her seeing her eyeing his drink on the table. “It was only a few weeks. Don’t worry, I’m not an alcoholic.” He lifted his hand cover hers at his cheek.

She nodded, understandingly. She’d done the same herself in the past – turned to drink after a particularly bad case. It was a way of coping for a little while. But she was ever conscious of her mother’s addiction and was careful not to allow herself to fall down that rabbit hole. Just as she was sure Rafa had done, given his own father’s relationship with alcohol.

He began to tell her about how he’d been barely existing for the first few days after the trial, drinking himself into a stupor. “Rita had been trying to get hold of me and when I didn’t answer, she took it upon herself to come around. She took one look at me and practically tore me a new one! She shoved me in the shower fully clothed to sober up before pouring all my best scotch down the drain. But something she said got through, although I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what it was.”

He exhaled a slow, shuddering breath. “She drove me to confession… I asked for absolution… for my actions with Drew, for my selfishness, for my cowardice and I didn’t touch a drop of scotch for three weeks until I’d dealt with the majority of my guilt and shame. Then I flew to Europe, visited some of the places I’d always dreamed of, while I tried to find some clarity on what to do next.”

He entwined his fingers with hers and brought their joined hands to his lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles. “But I couldn’t escape you. Everywhere I went, I found myself thinking about you and Noah. I’d wonder how you were, what you would think of the places I visited, how Noah would enjoy the beaches in Greece or visiting London Zoo.”

“He’d have loved the elephants,” agreed Olivia.

“He would.” Rafael smiled, remembering how much the boy loved the stuffed one he’d bought for him. “I had planned to continue travelling before thinking about heading home – see some of France and Spain – but then I found our agreement and I realised how stupid I had been walking away from you instead of telling you how I felt.”

“Well, I won’t argue with you on that.”

“Makes a change,” he muttered, his eyes shining. “Anyway, upon realising my stupidity, I decided to hop on the next plane and well, here I am, hoping that I haven’t missed my chance.”

A small smirk played at her lips. “You mean the kiss in the kitchen didn’t give you a clue?”

“Well, I can’t be a hundred percent sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

She shifted towards him, gently freeing her hand from his hold. She reached up and drew her fingers across his jaw, beckoning him closer. “You weren’t.”

He dipped his head and let his lips touch hers again. When she hummed, and moved against him, increasing the pressure of the kiss, Rafael’s arms wrapped around her and gathered her close. His mouth angled over hers as her arms went around his neck and gripped the back of his shoulders. The heat from earlier was still there, bubbling away under the surface, but this time there was more. There was hope, possibility, love.

When at last they broke apart, Olivia turned her face into Rafael’s neck, while he continued to hold her. When she felt his hands slide into her hair again, she tipped her head back. She looked up at him, lips swollen and eyes lidded. Her lips curved slowly upward into a soft smile. She tipped her face toward him and let her lips brush his again, gently, softly. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi." His thumb stroked the curve of her lips. He smiled down at her. His eyes sparkled. His head lowered again, this time so that their foreheads touched. “That was…” he trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, letting out a breathy laugh.

“So, we’re going to do this?”

“Yes, but…” Pulling away, Olivia reached for their agreement, folding it back up along the creases before holding it out to him. “How about you hold on to this for a while. Let us find our feet again, see where this,” she waved a hand between them, “goes.”

He nodded in agreement, taking the proffered piece of paper. “I can do that.” He slid it back into the back pocket of his jeans. The agreement had been one of convenience should they find themselves alone and without love, but now they had a chance to have the marriage but with a deeper connection.

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t want to…” she admitted, her cheeks reddening a little. There was no one else she wanted to marry, but realistically, given their current situation, it was too soon. “I just think we both need time to adjust before we make any big decisions.”

He nodded. He would marry her tomorrow, but he didn’t want to push her; he knew that by leaving he’d hurt her, and she would probably need time to deal with that. However, he didn’t want to stand still either. “Can I at least take you out this weekend?”

“Like a date?”

“Like a date,” he confirmed, his gaze steady, unwavering.

“I think I can agree to that,” she replied with a smile, “on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“That you don’t plan on waiting until then to kiss me again.”

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. Not now I’ve discovered how enjoyable it is.”

“Good,” she managed to get out before his lips descended on hers again and they lost themselves to the kiss, mouths and hands exploring until the world around them faded and all that existed for them was each other.

* * *

Six months later, on opening her Christmas gift from Rafael, Olivia found the agreement once more, only this time it was accompanied by a small, black velvet box and a question. Her answer was of course, ‘yes’.


End file.
